


Dead man walking.

by Ritiri



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crazy, Fix-It, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 09:06:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9377858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ritiri/pseuds/Ritiri
Summary: Draco is scared. So scared, that it makes him unhinged. Convinced that he is not going to be alive for much longer, he goes mad. Insanity runs in the family after all. Voldemort should have known better than to push his luck with crazy people.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I'm sorry. This is stupid.

" He wants me to kill Dumbledore." Draco muttered into the still darkness of his bedroom, as he lay wrapped up in his silken sheets. 

" He wants me to kill Dumbledore." He said again, this time getting up and slipping into his shoes, grabbing his robe and making his way to the common room.

He sat with his face resting on his knees in front of the fireplace, whispering it to himself again and again, to the damp air of the dungeons and maybe to Hogwarts itself.

Come morning, the Syltherin students had a terrifying start to their day, as they found a laughing Draco Malfoy laying on his back on the floor, laughing maniacally, tears streaming down his face, his usually perfect hair all over the place like he'd been electrocuted, shouting about  **killing** and maybe something about bumblebees (?).

Had it been any other student, this would be an embarrassing incident that would have been impossible to live down. But this was Draco Malfoy. The ones in the room that had been face to face with Bellatrix recognized the look in the teenager's eyes.

\---------

Harry's attention was broken away from breakfast and the spirited debate Ron and Hermione seemed to be having.

The Order had received information that Voldemort had fallen into a coma. No one knew why. The Death Eaters had taken to reckless attacks, seemingly panicking. Tensions were running high. So it was quite a shock to his system, when Draco Malfoy sauntered into the Great Hall, wearing a black sweatshirt and hot pink lounge pants. His hair was aranged in a waterfall braid that looked too intricate and neat to achieve without the use of magic. Draco drank two glasses of pumpkin juice, picked up a breakfast sandwich and sashayed out of the hall like there was nothing amiss.

" Bloody hell." Ron exclaimed, and the quietness that had descended on the hall broke, as the students started whispering to each other, trying to make sense of what Draco was doing wearing muggle clothes.

\--------

Draco was sunbathing. But since he actually quite liked his lovely pale skin, he'd chosen the Forbidden Forest as the perfect spot to spread out his picnic blanket and go to sleep, since very little light actually filtered through the dense trees. He was logical like that.

He figured he deserved a break after having ventured into the muggle world to stock up on supplies. He was finally willing to admit that their clothes were much more comfortable and pens were the best thing in the world really. Not to mention that their chocolates tasted like chocolates, not vomit or earwax, and certainly didn't hop around like the much overrated chocolate frogs. Who would want to eat a seemingly live frog, that'd jumped here and there on unsanitary surfaces. Asking for an infection, that was.

He'd gotten the idea of drugging the Dark Lord Moldyshorts after he'd seen him indulge in (read empty) his father's wine collection. He didn't think it would actually work, but what did he have to lose. He eas going to die anyway. Turns out, Voldemort didn't think to check his food for horse tranquilizers (which had been very easy to procure with liberal use of the _Confundus_ ), at least not when it was served to him by the staff of one of his most loyal followers.

When Voldy's comatose body was discovered, he'd retired to his room, but not before telling his mother that they wouldn't have to try piecing together what had happened if they had installed CCTV. As usual, his mother ignored his _crazy talk_.

He knew there was something that Voldemort had done to ensure his immortality, but if a single Avada Kedavara had purged him for a decade, then maybe he could hammer his skull to a pulp and wait around for him to come back like persistent acne, only to clear back up again (read die) with treatment (read killing). It was settled then. 

" I'm the mood for some hammering tonight." He said to his mother, absentmindedly. 

" The phrase goes, you want to get hammered tonight. And you will be doing no such thing. You are unwell. You can't drink alcohol." He'd been sent home to rest for a couple days after his mental breakdown in the common room, but he'd actually been quite busy, forgoing sleep in favour of making nightly trips to the muggle world. 

That night, after everyone had fallen asleep, he snuck into Moldy's bedroom. The door shouldn't have opened with a simple  _Alohamora_ , but the manor recognized his magical signature as the rightful heir of the property. Like most places steeped in magic, it had some autonomy and it sensed the young boy's intentions. It wanted to be rid of the taint of Voldemort's shrivelled, mutilated soul.

Nagini's sleeping form stirred. Draco cast a sleeping charm on her, before transfiguring her into a hammer and bringing her/it down on the Dark Lord's noseless face with a sickening crunch. With the first hit, his face caved into his skull. He pummeled him with the hammer till all it was doing was beating flesh into pulp, face completely detached. A giggle burst out of his mouth as he felt a surge of calm and strength in his core, like a binding coming undone. His body buzzed with a pleasant feeling, like it was drinking after having been parched for years. With a happy smile on his face, blood soaking his robes, he repeated the same process on the entire body. In the back of his mind, Draco knew he shouldn't be enjoying this so much, that he shouldn't have had the physical strength to do it. But that was something to worry about later.

He wandered back to his room, preparing himself a strawberry scented bath. He cleaned his clothes and himself with a quick  _Scourgify_ and settled in to relax.

He'd keep renewing the tranfiguration spell on the hammer until he could decide what to do with it. Maybe he could give it to Dumbledore when he went back to school tomorrow. All that was left to do was wait now. Hopefully, he would be half to Hogwarts before Voldemort's body was discovered


End file.
